


"if i kiss you, will you punch me?"

by the_great_fish_nipple



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, enjoy more stuff bc i have no life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_great_fish_nipple/pseuds/the_great_fish_nipple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>apparently, standing up shirtless in the middle of biology class will land you three detentions with a guy you're kind-of-sort-of friends with. it's surprising to tyler, really, but he's not complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"if i kiss you, will you punch me?"

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a skype conversation once again w/ my wonderful best friend who i hate and love. the beginning's a true story btw but i'll explain that later
> 
> ANYWAYS i seem to be on a roll with my writing so it seems i've broken my writer's block hooray  
> thank u destery for giving me my ideas, being my beta reader and my editor and my co-writer, and my inspiration ;) ;)
> 
> also go to his page or w/e and fucking tell him to change his psued because I HATE IT !!

You know, of all things he could have gotten detention for, Tyler never would have guessed losing his shirt would be among those.

It’s a normal thing for guys to take their shirts off during gym class. Tyler’s no different, and during a particularly intense soccer match, he’d happened to rip his off to throw off somewhere around the bleachers.

Except, when he went back to find said shirt, it was gone.

He’d looked everywhere, but it was just gone. Without an explanation.

He’s pretty lucky his mother forced him and his siblings to take a jacket with them when they left for school in the morning. Otherwise, he’d be walking down school hallways without a shirt on, which he’s ninety percent positive may be against dress code.

Not that he has a problem being shirtless. He just doesn’t want to explain to his mother that the reason he’d gotten detention for the first time that year was  _because_  he was shirtless. So, he heads into the locker rooms, slips the sweatshirt on that he’d chosen, and continues on with his day.

Everything was going fine up until fifth period biology and Mr. Mclaury’s lack of personal space.

“Mr. Joseph,” he clears his throat as he walks past his table. Both him and his lab partner look up as their teacher leans uncomfortably close toward Tyler’s chest, inherently reading something on his sweatshirt. “Your sweatshirt is against dress code. I’ll have to ask you to remove it.”

Tyler stares. “No,” he responds, immediately, swallowing when Mr. Mclaury glares at him. “Uh. Wait. I meant to ask why,” he clarifies.

“It has  _profanity_  on it.”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead glances down at his sweatshirt, reading the word ‘fuck’ upside down, printed in white lettering against the black fabric. “Oh,” he says dumbly. “So it does.”

“Yes, it does,” Mr. Mclaury nods curtly. “Therefore you’ll need to remove it.”

“I can’t do that,” he blanches, and Mark sniggers behind him, hiding his giggling behind his fingertips.

“Yes, you can, and you will, or you can have detention for defying authority,” he crosses his arms over his chest, and Mark’s giggling grows wilder.

“Okay, wait – I was in gym class, and I lost my shirt –“

“Mr. Joseph, I don’t care, please remove the sweatshirt –“

“I can’t –“

“Mr. Joseph –“

Huffing a sigh, Tyler stands, and removes the sweatshirt.

Mr. Mclaury stares at him, and Mark laughs so hard he falls out of his chair. At this point, the entire class is watching the encounter, a few muffled laughs here and there, and a very shirtless, embarrassed Tyler is slowly turning red.

“This is why I need to have the sweatshirt on,” he deadpans.

Mr. Mclaury walks to the front of the room, scribbles something onto a yellow piece of paper, and promptly marches back, sticking it out to Tyler. Tyler pulls the sweatshirt back on, grabs the slip and shoulders his bag, and ignores the laughing behind him as he does the walk of shame to the principal’s office.

A yellow slip. His reason is disruption of teaching and a violation of dress code.

He plops down into a chair outside of the principal’s office next to a girl with her head practically buried in a book, and the vice principal sticks his head out of the door minutes later. “Tyler Joseph?”

Tyler settles down behind the desk, hands over the yellow slip, and sits back in the chair.

“Mr. Mclaury,” the vice principal sighs, and Tyler grins.

“Lot of complaints on his part?” he asks.

“Too many. Okay, a day of detention tomorrow after school, and you’re fine. Just don’t let it happen again,” he adds, and Tyler nods. “You can return to class. Thank you, Tyler.”

Tyler retrieves his signed slip and walks out the office door, pausing when he sees someone with wildly colored purple hair sitting outside now, holding an ice pack up to his cheek.

Purple hair looks up, and Tyler recognizes him as Joshua Dun. He supposes they’d be in the same friend group if Gerard wasn’t such a dick about Tyler being friends with Pete, but Josh smiles up at him. He figures Gerard has a point, because Pete did get in a fist fight with Mikey during the beginning of the year, but that was a while ago and he knows Mikey has forgiven Pete because Pete is Patrick’s boyfriend.

“What happened to your face?” Tyler asks, and Josh’s face drops in a frown, signaling that he’s said something wrong. He halts, making a face on his behalf. “Oh. Sorry. Is your face okay?”

Josh grins. “My face is okay. Thanks for asking. What’d you do?”

Tyler shoves his slip into his pocket. “I got shirtless in the middle of biology class. Did you get in a fight?”

Josh pauses. “You got shirtless?”

“In biology class,” Tyler clarifies, and Josh cackles.

“I got in a fight with a sophomore,” Josh says, shifting his ice pack around.

“Did you win?”

“Kind of.”

“Good job.”

Josh gives him a weird look. “Thanks?”

“See you in detention,” Tyler says as he walks, down the hallway toward biology to laugh in Mr. Mclaury’s face. Josh stares after him curiously.

 

+

 

“Wait, you got detention for being shirtless?”

Jenna unscrews a bottle of polish, and noxious fumes fill Tyler’s room. He should’ve cracked the window. Instead, he holds out his left hand, watching as she swipes polish down his index finger.

“Yeah.”

“And you asked Josh what was wrong with his face?”

He forgets how popular Jenna is sometimes. She knows everybody, and happens to be somewhat-friends with Josh, according to her.

“Yeah.”

Jenna laughs at that. “Tyler, you don’t just ask people what’s wrong with their faces.”

“I’m aware of that,” Tyler deadpans.

She moves on to his middle finger. “Why did you get shirtless in the first place?”

“I lost my shirt during gym, I put on a sweatshirt that said ‘fuck’, and Mr. Mclaury made me take it off. Mark has a bruise on his face from when he fell out of his chair laughing at me.”

“I told you not to choose him for a lab partner,” Jenna chastises, painting his ring finger.

“Mark’s nice,” Tyler defends.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t.” She paints his pinky nail carefully. “He doesn’t take things seriously, that’s all.”

“I’m telling him you said that. Next time, see if he gives you free booze when you show up to his house with me.”

Jenna glares as she paints his thumbnail. “Don’t be like that.”

He admires his hand and shining blue nails.

“What’s Josh Dun like?”

She takes his right hand. “Why?”

“Because I have detention with him and I’d like to make a good impression after I very kindly asked him what was wrong with his face.”

Jenna makes a thoughtful face. “Ask Gerard. He hates him.”

Tyler purses his lips. “I’m aware of that.”

“Really, I don’t know, Tyler. Ask him yourself when you become his boyfriend.”

“Jenna, I don’t like him,” Tyler frowns, watching as his nails slowly turn blue.

“Okay, Tyler.”

 

+

 

Tyler does see Josh in detention the next day, after all. This time, he’s appropriately dressed in a shirt that is decorated without profanity.

Josh is seated in the very back, head against the desk, looking half asleep.

He sits down next to him anyways, and Josh looks up at him groggily.

“Cool nails,” Josh says.

Tyler lays his hands flat on the table. “Thanks.”

Josh rests his head on the table again.

Tyler fishes his notebook out of his bag and sets it down on the table, retrieving a pen alongside it. He busies himself with drawing for a good few minutes.

“Look,” he prods Josh’s side until he sits up, glaring at Tyler, then down at the notebook paper where Tyler is pointing. “I drew a turtle.”

Josh stares at it.

“Okay, that looks nothing like a turtle,” he decides after a heartbeat.

Tyler sighs, slightly offended. “You’re rude,” he admonishes, looking at his drawing. It definitely looks like a turtle. Josh is just rude.

“Coming from the guy who asked me what was wrong with my face,” Josh frowns, and Tyler freezes, because he does have a point.

Tyler points at the turtle again. “Josh, look. It’s a turtle. You know nothing about art if this doesn’t look like a turtle to you.”

“When’s the last time you got your eyesight checked?” Josh sighs.

“I don’t know, last year – look. It’s a turtle.”

“No, it isn’t,” Josh insists.

“Then what  _is_  it?” Tyler whines, voice rising slightly.

Josh crosses his arms defiantly. “Not a turtle.”

“It’s a turtle!” Tyler cries.

“It isn’t!” Josh shouts right back.

They bicker about turtles for a good few seconds, until a shadow looms over them both. Mr. Lanthrum, the teacher in charge of detention (subsequently Tyler’s algebra one teacher) is standing in front of them angrily.

Words die in Tyler’s throat as he looks up, Josh following suit.

“I’ve been calling your name repeatedly,” he says, deliberately calmly. “Detention, tomorrow, for the both of you.”

He comes back with two hand-written yellow slips.

Tyler stares at his. “It looks like a turtle,” he mutters under his breath, and Josh groans next to him.

 

+

 

“Tyler Joseph, this is the second day you’ve come home with a yellow slip,” his mother sighs in exasperation. “The first one was understandable, but you got detention  _in_  detention for arguing about turtles.”

“It looked like a turtle,” Tyler insists immediately.

She shakes her head in disappointment.

Mercifully, the doorbell rings, saving Tyler from a potential lecture. His mother departs to answer it, coming back with a grinning Jenna behind her.

“Okay, detention, tell me all about it,” she says, ushering him up the stairs.

“Nice to see you too, Jenna,” Tyler quips, but allows himself to be pushed.

 

+

 

Josh has a new haircut the next day. It’s shaved on the sides, curly at the top, and bright, fire engine red.

Tyler stares because he looks damn good, even if he doesn’t want or mean to.

“Do you like my hair or is there something on my face?” Josh asks, wrinkling his nose, running his fingers through his hair with a bright grin.

“You’re hot,” Tyler says immediately, because he has absolutely no filter.

Josh makes a weird face, and then bubbles over into laughter.

Tyler settles down in the chair next to him, feeling Mr. Lanthrum’s eyes on both of them from across the classroom. He hears a bag unzipping, and looks over to the only other person in the room – Josh has a bag of Doritos in his hand, and opens them with a pop. He throws one lazily into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously, and Tyler casually reaches a hand over to try and take one.

Josh smacks his hand away, sticking his tongue out.

Tyler frowns. “Please,” he adds, and Josh turns away from him. “Josh. Dude. Joshua. Josh. Dickface. Give me a chip.”

Josh snorts. “You just called me dickface and you want a chip? Okay.”

Tyler kicks the back of Josh’s chair petulantly. When he receives no response, he slaps the back of Josh’s head.

Josh turns and throws a chip at him.

Tyler reaches over and shoves him out of his chair.

Mr. Lanthrum strolls over with two yellow slips. He hands one to Josh, still sprawled on the floor, takes away his Doritos, and hands Tyler his own slip.

“You two can head home now, detention’s over,” he adds, a bit too cheerfully, and Tyler slings his bag over his shoulder, not bothering to help Josh to his feet and ignoring the fact that they’ve only been there for five minutes out of sheer appreciation for his luck.

He does wait outside the door, however, and if Josh slaps the back of his head and runs away down the empty hall with Tyler chasing him, no one has to know except for the janitor who sees the entire thing.

 

+

 

“You said he was hot,” Jenna echoes as Tyler retells his tale of the woeful unfortunate five minutes that was his detention.

“I hate myself,” Tyler groans, collapsing back onto Jenna’s bed. With three detentions in a row with the same person under his belt, he’s pretty much grounded, but he complained enough to be allowed to go over to Jenna’s without staying the night.

“He is pretty cute,” Jenna nods. “Do you want to see a movie tomorrow?”

Tyler rolls around on her bed. “Yes.”

He’s still grounded, but he begs his mom into going out the next day when he gets home, and she relents. He doesn’t know what the point of grounding is if he’s still allowed to do things, but he doesn’t dare tempt fate.

Jenna shows up outside his house around three in the afternoon, announcing her arrival by bouncing pebbles off of his bedroom window. He races down the stairs, attempting to slide down the banister – it fails miserably, and he finds himself sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain. There’s a dull throbbing in his temple now, coupled with a ton of pain on his right cheek that means a nice bruise.

Zack looks at him carefully. He opens the door for Jenna knowingly, and she bursts into laughter when she sees Tyler on the ground.

“Hi, Jenna,” Zack chirps before disappearing into the kitchen. After a few agonizing seconds, Tyler hauls himself to his feet and tests where he’s in pain.

He ends up screwing up his ankle slightly, and limps the entire time to the theatre, Jenna laughing alongside him like a true best friend.

Tyler forgets all the pain in his ankle when he sees no one other than Josh Dun standing outside the theatre, ordering tickets next to some girl he can’t place a name to.

“Isn’t that Josh?” Jenna snickers.

“Fuck my life,” Tyler supplies helpfully. She forces him into line behind Josh and the mystery girl; she turns around slightly, and her eyes go wide when she sees Jenna.

“Jenna!” she squeals at the same time Jenna shouts “Debby!”

Immediately, they’re hugging, and a very confused Josh turns around holding two tickets in his hand. His face splits into a smile when his eyes land on Tyler. “Hi, Tyler.”

“Hi, Josh,” Tyler grins involuntarily. “You know Jenna, right?”

“Well, yeah. This is Debby.”

Debby turns, smiling wildly, and shakes his hand with a brief hello before returning her attention back to Jenna.

“I guess we’ll be seeing the same movie,” Josh says as Tyler steps up to buy his own tickets, forking over money out of his wallet.

He slips it back into his pocket, smiling drily. “I guess so.”

Jenna and Debby retrieve their tickets and move themselves inside toward concession, leaving Josh and Tyler to follow along. They end up ordering too much popcorn in the end, and Josh nearly spills coke all over himself when he picks up his cup too fast, but they manage to find seats in the back of the theatre, Tyler settled between Josh and Jenna.

Within ten minutes, the movie proves to be incredibly boring, and Tyler resolves to seeing how many pieces of popcorn he can get in Josh’s hair without him noticing.

He gets up to twenty and is about to do his twenty-first, trying to hold back giggles, when Josh looks over at him, and Tyler throws his piece right at Josh’s eye.

Tyler can barely stifle his laughter behind his hand. Josh digs into his popcorn bag and throws a handful at him; Tyler snickers and flings popcorn right back at him.

Jenna and Debby watch with interest as things slowly escalate, to the point where Josh takes an entire bag of popcorn and dumps it straight onto Tyler’s head.

That exact moment is when an usher walks down the aisle, shining a flashlight on Josh, holding an empty bag of popcorn over Tyler’s face.

They’re asked, very politely, to leave. Tyler almost feels bad that Jenna and Debby are forced into going with them as he walks outside, blinking into the sunlight, trying to pick all of the popcorn out of his hair.

“That movie sucked,” Debby says, linking her arm with Jenna’s.

Josh glowers at Tyler, and Tyler grins in return.

 

+

 

Usually, when Tyler opens the door to his house, he expects Jenna to insult him in some way immediately.

Not a sort-of nervous looking Josh standing in front of him on a Sunday afternoon. “Hi,” he says after a minute of awkward silence and Tyler staring him down, trying to figure out how he got his address.

“Why are you here?” he blurts.

Josh’s face falls.

“I didn’t mean that,” he amends. “I wanted to ask how you got my address.”

“Oh. Jenna gave it to me.”

Tyler pauses, and then he closes the door in Josh’s face, heading upstairs, back into the comfort and safety of his room.

A few seconds later, he hears a ping ricochet off of his window. Curiously, he peeks outside, and sees a fire-haired boy bouncing pebbles off of his window.

He stares, and another pebble comes up.

Tyler slides the window open. “Go away,” he says.

“No,” Josh replies, eyes narrowing. “Can I come inside?”

“If you use the  _door_.”

“Come on, just let me up through your window,” Josh calls.

“How am I even supposed to get you up here?”

Josh pauses, before crooning, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.”

“Just – go use the door, Josh.”

Josh visually deflates, and his red hair disappears from sight as he does as he’s told. Tyler closes his window and clicks the lock into place just as Josh walks into his room.

“Nice place,” Josh grins.

“Nice face,” Tyler says, and cringes at himself.

Josh makes the same weird face as he always does, plopping himself down onto Tyler’s bed as if he belongs there. Tyler shoves his legs over and sits down next to him, leaning against the wall awkwardly.

“We’re friends, right?” Josh asks, swinging his legs back up into Tyler’s lap.

He doesn’t bother pushing him off, resituating himself into a more comfortable position. “I don’t know. Do friendships start with insulting someone’s turtle drawing skills?”

Josh makes a thoughtful face in return. “I don’t know. How’d you meet Jenna?”

Tyler giggles. “I tried to kiss her in fifth grade, and she punched me in the face.”

“Would you punch me in the face if I tried to kiss you?” Josh asks, oddly quiet. Tyler’s heart might flip. He doesn’t know how hearts work, but he’s pretty sure they can’t flip, and he’s also pretty sure he wants to kiss Josh but that might be bad so he’s not going to.

Decisively, Tyler answers, “Yes.”

A giggle bubbles out of Josh’s throat. “Nice to know.”

“Well, maybe,” Tyler cocks his head to the right. Josh watches him curiously. “I don’t know. I guess it depends when you kissed me.”

Josh sits up suddenly, bounding off of Tyler’s bed. “Hey, you should paint my nails.”

“Alright,” Tyler stretches, leaning over to collect his box of nail polish from under his bed. “What color?”

Tyler moves onto the floor, and Josh perches next to him, sifting through the box until he picks out a shiny blue. “We can match,” he grins, looking at Tyler’s own nails.

He rolls his eyes, but takes the hand that is offered to him after unscrewing the polish. He swipes it thickly up Josh’s index, humming softly as he works. Josh watches him intently, heart beating rapidly; carefully, he leans in toward him, and their noses brush together as he closes the distance, softly kissing Tyler.

Tyler’s heart jolts in surprise as Josh’s lips touch his and immediately, he raises an arm, swinging backwards and landing a closed-fist punch on Josh’s cheek.

“Oh my God,” Tyler whispers, shocked, as red blossoms underneath where Josh is clutching at his cheek. He vaguely remembers to pick up the bottle of blue that’s spilling onto the floor, screwing the cap back on before sitting up on his knees, rapidly grabbing at Josh’s shirt sleeve.

“I’m so sorry, oh my God, I’m sorry,” he mutters, fingers brushing over Josh’s as he tries to pry his hand away from his face.

Josh laughs despite the pain in his face, heart fluttering. “I didn’t think you were serious,” he groans as Tyler’s fingers prod his cheek, and Tyler laughs, tears almost brimming in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he groans again, taking Josh’s face in his hands, planting an apologetic kiss on Josh’s lips. Granted, Josh is surprised, but not quite enough to punch Tyler in the face, mind you.

He kisses him once, twice, three times in brief pecks, before pulling back, breathlessly laughing against his lips. He runs his fingers over Josh’s cheek again and sits down against the floor, crossing his legs.

“Can I paint your nails now?” he asks, earnest.

“Are you gonna punch me in the face if I kiss you again?” Josh fires back.

Tyler groans, pulling Josh’s hand back into his lap. “No,” he decides, leaning back in to let Josh plant another kiss on his lips. Carefully, he continues painting his nails, one by one.

Josh admires his nails, and then Tyler’s. “There, we match.”

“You’re so great,” Tyler sighs. “I’m glad you insulted my ability to draw turtles.”

“It looked nothing like a turtle,” Josh says instantly, and Tyler interrupts by drawing him close by the shoulders, shoving their mouths together. That’s definitely something he could get used to.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on social media!!  
> @blurryfced on tumblr  
> @blurryfceds on twitter
> 
> follow destery too because he's ok i guess no i'm kidding he's a quality bitch  
> @homosexual-giraffe on tumblr <3


End file.
